Chapter 1 - The Midnight Visitor

Author’s Note: Hello both new and returning readers! If you are new, then welcome, if you are returning - then welcome back and I hope this lives up to expectations :) The Old Town Square in Prague is so easy to imagine centuries ago but, if you're not a fan of history, don't worry, I won't be dwelling on that aspect much. I'm aiming scare you and make you get lost in the mystery, not give you a lecture.

So, puppets. Think you’ve heard it all before? Think again. Or at least, I hope you will xD Anyway, all I have to say is I hope you enjoy this and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thank you :)

Best Wishes,

~ TheTimelessClock

Dedication: For my mother. You’re always artistic and your love of dolls, puppets and other strange and dark items have rubbed off on me. I suppose they are the main cause of my inspiration. So, thank you and I see this as a story you might enjoy one day :)

The noise appeared to be getting louder. But of course, Josef dismissed it as being nothing. “Just the wind...” he muttered sleepily, glancing at his cracked windows that he had no money to repair.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Josef groaned, thinking it was someone at the door. “They can wait until morning...” he said to himself. He yawned, closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair. His mop of dark brown hair falling over his forehead.

Tap- a floorboard creaked, shattering the silence. The tapping stopped. Josef froze in his chair, his hands gripping the sides tightly. There was someone in the room.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

They were footsteps. Footsteps. And they were getting louder. Closer. Josef drew in a breath.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There was someone-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

-in the room.

Tap.

Josef was not alone. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head a fraction and swivelled his eyes to see a figure, no more than a metre tall, standing there in the shadow of the room.

Tap.

It moved a step closer. The clouds shifted in the sky and a thin stream of moonlight fell upon the figure’s face. Revealing the true horror of the situation. A puppet. It’s eyes manic and glassy, its painted mouth slightly smeared, giving it the horrible effect of dripping blood. Its strings were cut, the uneven ends hanging around the doll. Its face was painted white, so pale that it appeared to glow. As pale as death. The puppet opened and closed its mouth.

Tap.

Went the wood against wood.

Tap.

One step closer.

Tap.

One step nearer.

Tap.

The puppet reached out a hand. Josef was frozen in fear, his eyes dry and unblinking. The scream that threatened to come bursting out of his mouth, never made it past his lips.